I am currently reading Pants of Perspective by Anna McNuff and this reminded me that I promised to write about the mini adventure George and I went on last summer. So first of all, who is Anna McNuff and what is a mini adventure?
Well, I first heard about Anna McNuff through work. She is a lovely, friendly, and excitable person who loves to challenge herself. It can be a big challenge, like cycling the Andes, or running the length of New Zealand solo (which Pants of Perspective is about) or it can be smaller, like running Hadrian's Wall or going wild camping. Well George and I like a challenge too, and whilst we're not about to run across a country we can try wild camping. Firstly, to explain wild camping it really just means load up your sleeping bag, hit the countryside and keep walking until you find somewhere you want to spend the night. Then snuggle in your sleeping bag and enjoy a night under the stars - it sounds idyllic doesn't it? Well here's how our Mini Adventure went...
We decided the location of our adventure would be Weymouth. To be honest, I can't remember why. It's by the sea and is very pretty, but we didn't know the area. George has some cousins there, but we didn't have their contact numbers. Luckily the weekend we picked ended up being perfect weather for a night outside. It rained for about 20 minutes but then it was beautiful sunshine, which led to a warm evening. We alighted the train and headed straight to the seaside. Then we decided to walk east along the coast. We had no plan we just wanted to see where we ended up.
The scenery was absolutely stunning, and whilst I remember there were some hills, it was a relatively easy walk, even with us being loaded up with all our bags.
We didn't spot anyone until we wandered past a small pub where, thankfully there were some public toilets.
We stopped here to use the facilities but then decided we had to keep going. We wanted to be away from civilisation and as lovely as the pub looked we had dinner in our backpacks to cook. To be honest, I don't know how long we walked for, it was definitely a good few hours. Our starting point was miles away and we didn't know where we were going to stop!
Finally we decided to set up camp down on the beach. We found a little space at the bottom of a cliff, with one side blocked off by the cliff. That way, we figured we would be able to see anyone approaching from just one end of the beach. Not that anyone would be coming down there, we'd walked for miles!
We started with the most important thing, setting up George's mini gas stove so we could get our first cup of tea and some toasted marshmallows.
Then with our beanies on we settled down in our sleeping bags to wait for the stars to come out. The sunset over the sea was extremely captivating.
And then it was dark and we were left looking at the stars and waiting for morning. Now I guess the whole point of wild camping is getting back to nature and enjoying a peaceful night away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. However I just could not get to sleep. There were too many what ifs running through my mind. What if someone found us? What if the person who found us just happened to be a serial killer? It turned out George was wide awake too, harbouring the same fears. What I must state right now is that we both have a small obsession with the Wrong Turn films. I can't remember why or how (if you can George please remind me). In these films (and yes there is more than one) inbred hillbillies terrorise and kill, in exceedingly creative ways, anyone who end up in their neck of the woods. Now I didn't say they were good films, but the characters really stick in your brain - especially when you're alone on an isolated beach. Oh, and if you're going to watch any the second one is the best.
After a few hours of no sleep and no sounds but the sea we suddenly heard people! People all the way out here, in the middle of the night! They had to be hillbilly killers (sorry people of Weymouth). Slowly and quietly we decided we were not going to sit there and wait for the inevitable. We packed up our bags and stomped across the beach to find safety. Now, as as soon as we started moving my rational brain told me the noise of us walking across the shingle was so loud that we would have easily heard if anyone came near, and that the voices we heard we drunk campers heading to the beach for some nighttime shenanigans that definitely didn't involve us - we were too far away, the quiet night was just carrying their voices. But it was too late, 'I'm not going to be a murder victim Sam' was in charge now. With our sleeping bags returned to our backs and a small torch lighting the way we were determined to find a main road, and safety. Again, I don't know how long we walked for, but I do know we scared a whole field of cows. The sound of cows stampeding in the dark is one I won't forget - like thunder with occasional snorts. Luckily we were on a pathway and the cows were behind a fence so we were no danger to each other. Finally at the end of this path we found a main road and George called for a taxi. The poor driver who had probably been ferrying clubbers home had to pick up two tired, beanie wearing, sleeping bag toting, paranoid weirdos. Who knows what he must have thought of us? After a 20 minute drive we were back in the centre of Weymouth with no further plans than getting back to civilisation. We had nowhere to stay, it was at least 3am and all the hotels were closed. So what did we do - walked up and down the beach and eventually napped there! In hindsight it's amazing we felt more comfortable there, where clubbers were walking past, heading home or on to the next party, than we did out in the wild where there was no drunk people walking past us! Eventually we took refuge with all hardcore clubbers in a McDonalds and had an early breakfast. Finally though, the sun started to rise, and we were treated to a beautiful pink sky.
Exhausted from a long walk, no sleep and a nice helping of an overactive imagination we sat in the train station and waited for the first train home. We must have looked a state on that journey home!
We stopped here to use the facilities but then decided we had to keep going. We wanted to be away from civilisation and as lovely as the pub looked we had dinner in our backpacks to cook. To be honest, I don't know how long we walked for, it was definitely a good few hours. Our starting point was miles away and we didn't know where we were going to stop!
Finally we decided to set up camp down on the beach. We found a little space at the bottom of a cliff, with one side blocked off by the cliff. That way, we figured we would be able to see anyone approaching from just one end of the beach. Not that anyone would be coming down there, we'd walked for miles!
We started with the most important thing, setting up George's mini gas stove so we could get our first cup of tea and some toasted marshmallows.
Then with our beanies on we settled down in our sleeping bags to wait for the stars to come out. The sunset over the sea was extremely captivating.
And then it was dark and we were left looking at the stars and waiting for morning. Now I guess the whole point of wild camping is getting back to nature and enjoying a peaceful night away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. However I just could not get to sleep. There were too many what ifs running through my mind. What if someone found us? What if the person who found us just happened to be a serial killer? It turned out George was wide awake too, harbouring the same fears. What I must state right now is that we both have a small obsession with the Wrong Turn films. I can't remember why or how (if you can George please remind me). In these films (and yes there is more than one) inbred hillbillies terrorise and kill, in exceedingly creative ways, anyone who end up in their neck of the woods. Now I didn't say they were good films, but the characters really stick in your brain - especially when you're alone on an isolated beach. Oh, and if you're going to watch any the second one is the best.
After a few hours of no sleep and no sounds but the sea we suddenly heard people! People all the way out here, in the middle of the night! They had to be hillbilly killers (sorry people of Weymouth). Slowly and quietly we decided we were not going to sit there and wait for the inevitable. We packed up our bags and stomped across the beach to find safety. Now, as as soon as we started moving my rational brain told me the noise of us walking across the shingle was so loud that we would have easily heard if anyone came near, and that the voices we heard we drunk campers heading to the beach for some nighttime shenanigans that definitely didn't involve us - we were too far away, the quiet night was just carrying their voices. But it was too late, 'I'm not going to be a murder victim Sam' was in charge now. With our sleeping bags returned to our backs and a small torch lighting the way we were determined to find a main road, and safety. Again, I don't know how long we walked for, but I do know we scared a whole field of cows. The sound of cows stampeding in the dark is one I won't forget - like thunder with occasional snorts. Luckily we were on a pathway and the cows were behind a fence so we were no danger to each other. Finally at the end of this path we found a main road and George called for a taxi. The poor driver who had probably been ferrying clubbers home had to pick up two tired, beanie wearing, sleeping bag toting, paranoid weirdos. Who knows what he must have thought of us? After a 20 minute drive we were back in the centre of Weymouth with no further plans than getting back to civilisation. We had nowhere to stay, it was at least 3am and all the hotels were closed. So what did we do - walked up and down the beach and eventually napped there! In hindsight it's amazing we felt more comfortable there, where clubbers were walking past, heading home or on to the next party, than we did out in the wild where there was no drunk people walking past us! Eventually we took refuge with all hardcore clubbers in a McDonalds and had an early breakfast. Finally though, the sun started to rise, and we were treated to a beautiful pink sky.
Exhausted from a long walk, no sleep and a nice helping of an overactive imagination we sat in the train station and waited for the first train home. We must have looked a state on that journey home!
Since our less than successful attempt at wild camping Anna McNuff has suggested some tips if you want to try it which you can read here. Don't be put off my our failure, I still stick by the fact that it was a fun adventure, but we just need to stop watching Wrong Turn films and imagining everyone is a murderer. I don't know if I'd do it again, I think I would, but with more people, that way if the hillbillies do attack there's a chance I could escape by leaving all my friends behind! Don't worry George, I know you'll be okay, you've watched enough horror films with me to know how to escape too, sorry everyone else!
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